“I can’t believe this,” Lena says, for what must be the fifth time since we stepped into the line of people awaiting entrance to the gala. I wear a sleek, feminine tailored suit that is considered very stylish back on the station Lena and I have been based at for the past year, but here, I notice several people raising their eyebrows at me.

“What can’t you believe?” I ask, deciding this time to dignify her obvious excitement with an answer.

She grins, practically bouncing with anticipation in the very extravagant, very bright purple dress she has chosen for the occasion. I have no idea how long she’s been lugging the thing through the outer reaches of the universe on the off chance we that needed formalwear. “Well,” she answers. “It’s not every day the prince remembers to give the camerawoman an invitation.”

I snort, a very undignified sound that causes the aliens in front of me to glance back with even more disapproval than they had shown at finding themselves in line next to us. “We’re lucky we got that much. I don’t think he thought too highly of me.”

Lena fiddles with the ever-present camera. She refused to forgo one completely, but I had talked her down to a handheld model she can easily swing around without accidentally braining someone. “I kind of noticed that,” she says. “He was all smiles for the camera, but with just you, he was… different.” She shrugs. “Maybe he’s just one of those anti-media people. Probably thinks we’re shooting for one of those gossip shows that airs after the news.”

The theory makes sense. “The media does occasionally suck,” I say agreeably, taking another step forward. “But still, he could have at least done his own research, seen what the show is about before drawing conclusions.”

“Maybe he’s been burned before,” Lena offers, generous as always.

I let my gaze linger all around me, looking to catch a glimpse of the prince, recalling the interview. He’d been so stiff, so rigid. I want to see the way he acts in a no-camera situation.

I can’t help but think back to my incredible connection with that stranger, the Velorian, last night. Why can’t Prince Takkan be more like that sort of Velorian? Loose, friendly, spontaneous. The way the unnamed man had taken me in his arms, claimed me with his lips. Well, OK, I don’t necessarily need the prince to do all that, but knowing the way Velorians have the capacity to act makes me warier than usual of his terse, entitled attitude.

There must be something in the air on this planet, because I can’t really help but find the prince slightly... alluring, despite his cold demeanor. And I’ve never really thought this way while on the job, it’s unprofessional. To be attracted to two aliens in two days? I should remember to grab a cold shower as soon as I can.

“Maybe,” I say, not willing to speculate any further and risk ruining her good mood. Beyond that, there are many listening ears around us, and slights about the prince’s personality are likely better exchanged at a later time. “He seems like a decent ruler at least,” I say. “The people think highly of his policies.”

The council as a whole plays a larger part than he does in forming the laws and enforcing them. Takkan is not merely a figurehead though; his voice still has weight in council meetings—two votes as opposed to the usual one—and he has the final say in all military decisions. It’s an interesting system, especially considering that most planets this far out tend to be practically lawless.

When we finally get past the entrance, what we see inside merits Lena raising the camera with a satisfied smirk. “There’s certainly more variety here than at a Federation gala,” she says, and I have to agree.

Aliens of every race from the surrounding planets have shown up. Outwardly, it is to show support for the holiday, but I’m willing to bet that in reality it has more to do with each planet showcasing their leaders, and each leader gaining what information he can about the others. The entrance opens into what must be the largest room in the Velorian palace. The walls are varying shades of white and ice blue; in a few places, it seemed to reflect the light that strikes it in beautiful, shimmering patterns. There are two levels, one overlooking the other. We head down the marbled steps to where most of the people have gathered.

The Velorians are a stark contrast compared to the other species. Most that I see are still dressed more like mercenaries than political figures. We weave our way through the people, Lena filming where she can. I pull out my notebook and scribble down lines for the voiceovers we will complete during our edit.

We eventually manage to find a narrow hallway, where I stand in the doorway explaining the logistics of the event, while Lena films the various people sweeping past behind me. We film a few of our interactions with these people once we rejoin the party, and I do my best to behave more like a person interested in documenting the events than on commenting on them. We get in a few candid interviews with aliens visiting from various planets, but nothing quite like what I’d hoped for.

“There’s the prince,” Lena hisses, and before I can comment on exactly why it’s a bad idea to approach the crown ruler of a planet at a gala without being specifically asked for, she is on her way across the crowded floor. He is standing with several other Velorians. Two seem to be council members, while the other two, one of whom is a fire Velorian, are dressed more like warriors. The Prince looks up as we approach, eyeing me with the same wariness he’d shown before. I try not to feel offended. It may be like Lena has hypothesized—that bad experiences with the press in the past have made him distrust us all.

“Prince Takkan,” I say, before Lena can begin with something completely inappropriate. There is a reason I am the one who does the talking, as Lena rarely has tact when it comes to things of this nature. Admittedly, her choices in words and their phrasing are always more entertaining, but significantly less proper. “We’d like to thank you again for inviting us. It was very kind.”

The two council members make themselves scarce, evidently not willing to continue their discussion with Lena and I present. It’s curious, and I wonder what private matter has merited such a careful discussion in public. The other two remain where they are, one on each side of Takkan. I notice a few guards in the background. I imagine they are more for appearance than anything else, as from the looks of the prince, he is perfectly capable of defending himself.

“You’re quite welcome,” he says, still skeptical from behind his polite mask. “I hope you’re both enjoying yourselves?”

“Definitely,” Lena says. “We’ve gotten some killer footage that we’d be missing otherwise.”

“A few shots of you in your element will go over well with our boss,” I add. And they will. Mr Carter has always shown more interest in the politics of a planet than the people such politics affect.

The fire Velorian scoffs, but says nothing.

It is the female ice Velorian who speaks, clearing her throat and stating. “It’s true that Takkan makes for a good prince, but you haven’t seen him in his element until you’ve seen him fight.”

“May I introduce my rather humorless friend, Jari.” Takkan gestures to the fire Velorian. “And this—“ He gestures again, this time to the female ice Velorian who has just spoken.

“I can introduce myself, cousin,” she says. I nearly gape before catching the ‘cousin’ bit, as surely only someone who has known a monarch since childhood would feel comfortable outright teasing and interrupting him in a public setting. “I am Wylt—of the same paternal line as Takkan. I live quite far from here, but return each year for the celebration.”

Her face is friendly, but there is something sharp about it, all harsh angles and intelligent eyes. I would not want to cross her, and perhaps this is what makes her a good ally for the prince. Lena is plainly taken with her, which isn’t shocking, given her reaction to every female Velorian we’ve met this far.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, nodding at both her and the fire Velorian. He doesn’t seem to have much to say, but with Velorians, this is more the norm than any cause for alarm. I find myself wondering if those like Takkan and Wylt, who find themselves in the public eye, have had to alter whole parts of their personality to fit in with diplomats and rulers of other planets they wish to befriend. I feel a pang of sympathy, but Lena’s voice distracts me from it.

“Perhaps we could interview you,” Lena suggests. “Or visit your part of Veloria. We have plans to head farther away from the city and the villages, explore the tundra, but we’re looking for a guide. Do you happen to know—“

I put a hand on her arm. “Perhaps,” I say, “we should let them get back to running the gala.”

Lena, realizing she was running at the mouth, nods quickly.

“Thank you for speaking with us,” I say again.

“I’ll look for you after dinner,” Wylt calls after us, exceedingly friendly, and Lena’s mouth will not drop the grin.

I shake my head, but an insistent smile is tugging at my own lips as well. Lena’s enthusiasm is always catching. We go back to wandering through the crowd, speaking to whoever has time for us. I find the variety in species fascinating. Farther out, past Veloria even, there are whole cultures we know almost nothing about. It seems that the end of the Xzerg wars, and this current, lasting peace, are a huge cause of celebration for everyone in this galaxy, even those that the history books have down as not officially participating in the war. When someone evil gains power, I suppose everyone in the vicinity suffers.

“Did you like him any better that time?” Lena asks, voice half joking.

“I suppose it was less… painful than last time. But I don’t enjoy his company half as much as you seem to enjoy his cousin.” I try to ignore the bizarre tug in my stomach I get when I look around and realize I’m hoping to see him again.

“Not all of us found a viable partner last night,” Lena says, I had told her, of course, because I tell Lena everything. “but I plan to keep on trying.” I told her, of course, because I tell Lena everything.

“With the prince’s cousin?”

“Why not aim high?” Lena links her arm with mine and begins pulling me insistently toward the tables that are being set up. Dinner is apparently part of the invitation. I hope we end up next to someone interesting.

We have almost made it across the floor when the comm device on my wrist begins to flash and vibrate, signaling an incoming call. “Shit,” I say, glancing down at the display that reads ‘Carter.’ Our supervisor could not have chosen a more inopportune time. He has a habit of demanding a ridiculous amount of updates, and I’ve ignored the last three calls. He is so longwinded that exchanging pleasantries turns into a half hour ordeal.

“I should probably take this if we want to keep our jobs,” I say. “Unless you’d rather do it?”

Lena shakes her head. “He called you,” she says.

“Save me a seat.” With a sigh, I turn away from the tables and head back to the secluded hallway Lena and I had filmed from before. It’s not a loud event, but the jumble of voices in the background would make it more difficult to hear Carter. Also, on the off chance that I am getting fired for ignoring the other calls, a bit of privacy will be nice.

I tap the button to answer, ears immediately assaulted with questions about the project. Thankfully, there is no yelling. Mostly he seems interested in why we haven’t yet ventured to the tundra. “Don’t spend too much time on the politics,” Carter implores. “Or the people for that matter. What the viewers really want to see are those freaky wolf things out there.”

“We’ve barely been here twenty-four hours,” I assure him. “Our return tickets give us until next week. I—“ I trail off here, the thought becoming lost as another voice enters my awareness.

There is an open window at the end of the hall. A figure stands outside it, on what must be one of the balconies that overlooks the city outside. I cannot see much about them other than their shadow.

“Yes,” the voice says. “That’s right. We’ve wired the money to your account. Half now, and half when he’s dead.”

My finger slips down to the comm device, switching it off and ending the call without so much as a warning. I hear Mr Carter confusedly stating my name before it switches off completely. Whatever I’m hearing, I’m sure that it refers to nothing good.

“He’ll be standing at the top of the grand staircase, overlooking all the tables set up below. That’s your moment—while the Prince is standing there, giving the speech...”

The Prince.

Perhaps I should have waited to hear more, but all I can think about is the fact that we’ll be eating dinner any minute now. It makes sense for the prince to speak beforehand. I retrace my steps, managing to get turned around only once on my way back to the main room. Rows upon rows of tables are now set up. I see Lena with her short hair and brightly colored dress, gesturing to capture my attention. I walk past her.

My eyes find the prince, standing at the base of the staircase the mysterious figure just mentioned. The fire Velorian is nowhere to be seen, but Prince Takkan is speaking with his cousin and one of his guards is nearby. I make a beeline for them, making slow progress due to the flow of everyone else in the direction of the food. As I’m nearly there, the guard steps in front of me, keeping me at bay through sheer intimidation, as he does not even hold out a hand to stop me.

“I need to speak with Takkan,” I say.

“The Prince is preparing to speak,” he says, more firmly than unkindly. “Perhaps you can talk with him later, before the close of the gala.”

“It’s urgent,” I say, leaning around the guard and lucking into catching Takkan’s eye.

The prince frowns, but nods. “Allow her past, Etto, and let us speak.”

The guard nods and steps aside.

Despite letting me speak to him, there is still nothing in the prince’s eyes aside from distrust and dislike. “Have you something to confess?” he asks, and the words throw me for a loop.

“What?” I say. The words are so unexpected and insulting that I nearly forget my reason for coming here. “Of course not. I’m here to warn you. I overheard something… I can’t be sure, as I only heard one side of the conversation, but it seemed to be in regards to a plot to harm you during the gala. You need to tell your soldiers so they can—“

The prince is shaking his head, as though he wholeheartedly regrets his decision to hear me out. “Yet another attempt to sabotage me,” he says, and I feel relief for only a second before I realize he is referring to me and not the threat I am trying to warn him of. “The purpose of this event is to win respect from surrounding planets, and in return, recognition from the Federation. I don’t have time for games.”

I stare at him blankly. “This isn’t a game. You might be in danger, Prince Takkan.”

I wonder if he thinks that somehow I am faking this, the tremor in my hands and the nervous sweat beginning to stick my hair to my forehead. He turns his back, a plain dismissal, and heads up the staircase.

At my seat, Lena stares at me, her smiling mouth softening into something concerned. “You look sick,” she says. “Are you alright?”

“I thought I overheard something,” I say, voice low, so as not to capture the attention of any of the aliens to our left or our right. “Something about an attempt on the Prince’s life.”

Lena chokes on her drink. “Fuck,” she says. “You just told him, right? That’s what you were up there for?”

“Yeah. But he doesn’t trust me, remember?”

Lena is looking around, as though expecting a horde of assassins to drop from the ceiling and converge upon the party. “I’m sure he would have told his security anyway,” she says. “Just to be on the safe side. Besides,” she continues, “maybe you misheard. Could just be a glitch in your translator. Prince Takkan is pretty beloved, right?” She gives a pointed jerk of her head toward his admittedly adoring, happy subjects.

“Maybe,” I allow, but my hands are still shaking.

The Prince takes his place after only a moment, gives the crowd a blinding smile and a warm welcome. This is as far as he gets, pausing briefly to turn to his cousin, lifting a brow as though at some shared, private joke hidden in his welcome speech.

There is no sound except the faint whoosh of air that accompanies any high-powered blaster shot. There is a spray of blood along the wall at Takkan’s back, and a widening bloom of color on the front of his shirt. I feel like I hear screams, but my ears are ringing suddenly from panic so it’s hard to tell.

He hits the ground in front of the podium, body tumbling down the first three steps before it stops, half his soldiers surrounding him while the other half train their weapons on every possible place the hidden shot could have come from. The crowd around me is gasping and yelling. Lena grips my hand, her mouth open in a silent ‘o’ of shock. I make no sound either, or if I do, the ringing in my ears covers it up. I should have persisted. I feel an inexplicable prick of pain in my own chest, as though I have been shot also.

On the ground beside the prince, Wylt kneels, her high, wrenching sobs echoing through the palace.

For the first time since I can remember, I am absolutely speechless.